“Lady, being such a woman as you are, how is it seemly that you should enter this garden? Return whence you came.”
And the blood fell away from her face and left her pale at that saying, for she had lived all her life like a queen, and now it seemed that scorn and the end were come upon her, and her beauty nothing though she shone like a night of moon and stars in her woven webs of gold. And silence fell upon her as she looked upon this noble young man serene and beautiful, who regarded her not, nor could she say, “The garden is mine,” for she was afraid.
So then, between the feathering palms and the bamboo leaves that floated on still air, came another man, also clothed in the yellow robe, but walking like a Prince, and he said softly to the other:
“Stay her not, brother Yasas, for our Master would look upon her beauty. Descend, Lady, and follow.”
And a little comforted at his saying she descended from beneath the canopy and followed through the palms and the mango trees that were her own and now seemed not hers. And there was great quiet, for the monk said no word and the leaves forbore to stir and not a cricket chirped and the sun was very early and dewy in the green ways. And she thought:
“What shall I see? For kings and princes have feared my beauty and I mocked them. And if he be wise, yet have the stern ascetics of the forests—those whose power the very Gods dreaded,—been seduced from their wisdom by the nymphs of Heaven. They have gone utterly astray, and very certainly I am beautiful as Menaka or Urvasi.”
And, now they turned into a green way beside the still pool where the lotuses bloomed, and it was cool and dim with a deep shade of trees, for they let down pillared stems to root again in earth and make a forest temple that scarcely a ray might pierce. And within the shade was One seated with folded hands and feet and behind his head a raying light that shone like the midnight moon, and, lost in calm, he looked out into the worlds.
And the man beside her fell on his knees and hid his face.
Not for me, O, not for me, least of all the disciples is it meet that I should tell of this or of the similitude of the Blessed One—the very wise, the passionless, the desireless Lord in the eyes of such as loved him. Only this I know, that the woman stood amazed, forgetting her beauty, forgetting herself, forgetting all in the Three Worlds but only that One. And the rock crystal that was her heart melted within her and flowed away in a river of tears: nor could she stay her feet, but slowly, very slowly, she approached and before his feet she fell and laid her face on the earth.
Now after awhile the Exalted One commanded her to rise and be seated, and he incited and gladdened her with high discourse so that she could no longer fear but only love in hearing these great words with ears that drank them as the parched earth yearns for the rains. And if it be asked how a woman of evil life should thus be honoured, should thus harken with love and understanding, I tell this thing.